Brothers and Kings
by Ferosh
Summary: They are older now. Older and so in love. But Narnia seems unwelcoming of it.
1. Brothers and Kings

**Brothers and Kings**

**_They are older now.  
Older and so in love.  
But Narnia seems unwelcoming of it. _**

* * *

Wind whistled in sharply from the half open doors, prickling at his skin. It did little to faze him or remove him from the bed. He simply resigned that someone would do it for him, averting their eyes as they stole into the room, like always. Eyes down on the floor as if the stone floor posed more interest than any greeting the King would give them.

Perhaps he had grown bigheaded as he had come to expect other people to do his little tasks for him. But he governed, ruled their land for them. He rode high into battle, on his white unicorn, wearing colours and plumes that made him such a target. It gave the Narnians courage to see that their High King was at the front lines, risking his life and heart for them. He charged first at the head of his army, so that gave him leave to expect all his little chores to be done. His thoughts were leaning towards the side that if pushed further he would surely to be tyrannical to the Narnians. Edmund would probably hit him for it and threaten to push him off their balcony. He was Just but Peter was letting his Magnificence get to him.

Edmund had been staring blandly out at the sky beyond the room as Peter thought. He hadn't realised that Edmund hadn't uttered anything for some time now. The last thing he'd said had been to gasp out Peter's name in the grip of orgasm.

That was why they avoided their Kings' eyes. They were the Sons of Adam, brothers in arms, Kings of Narnia and not meant to be brothers in bed. Even now, so long after their secret had slipped, they still withdrew their eyes if the Kings were ever in the presence of each other. Peter and Edmund now decided to keep their actions and love to their room at Cair Paravel, or their tent whenever faced with battle and for the long rides they stole away for. Peter almost found himself living for the times he'd find Edmund preparing their horses.

It had been Susan who had drawn the blanket of security off them, so to speak. Peter had cornered his pray, a very hurried, mouthy and flustered Edmund in a dark corner in Cair Paravel's library. The Kings had become so wound up in themselves that they hadn't spared thought for Queen Susan entering with her ladies and their numerous followers. Nor had they heard them enter.

There had been a surprised murmur from Susan, who had dropped her book in shock when she took notice of the faces. The gossip of ladies was always the worst, Peter found. True to his thoughts the news of the two Kings found together in the library, attached at the mouth for no other reason than to draw pleasure, spread around his castle like wildfire and then around Narnia. Peter had honestly thought of saying that his brother had fainted and he was lucky to have happened across him to resuscitate the young King. Yet the moans emitting from both of them would have fast dispelled his attempt.

Susan no longer cared for her bothers' actions with each other as they were old enough to know what they wanted. She had said exactly that to them in a very awkward conversation in which she had pulled Peter out of a meeting for and Edmund off the back of his horse. Though the only warning she gave them was to be thankful this hadn't been discovered in England, or else Peter would be imprisoned for such indecent acts with his younger brother. To that Edmund had said it had never started in England, he'd never cared for Peter in England.

Lucy on the other hand was unnerved by the gossip and rumours the sighting had spread. She was nervous for their Kingdom as Narnians had always thought themselves so pure and untainted that they may not want two Kings who dallied in these acts.

It was not the fact they were both two men. That did not strike a chord with them in the least. It was that they were brothers. It bothered Peter too. He'd surely go to hell for their many acts of indecency, and since he enjoyed it, he was certain he'd be sent further into the red pit. He was certain it barely bothered Edmund who could possibly do anything without guilt or regret, but he wished that his brother was any other person other than his brother for the sake of the Narnians.

When Edmund moved against him, softly, and rested his head against Peter's chest again, Peter caught that look in Edmund's eyes as his brother titled his head up to look at him for a mere second.

'What are you thinking about?' he asked and then softly began to stroke the dark locks of Edmund's hair that tickled his chest and chin.

'Don't start,' Edmund said sharply, though unmoving. 'Don't ask me that question. You sound like a woman when you ask that of me.' Edmund often grew quiet after lovemaking but never had he been quiet for this long. He usually would give Peter some snide remark about the state of his quarters and then, there would always come the soft "I love you" that Peter always held out for.

'You looked in thought, that's all,' Peter murmured. 'You can tell me your thoughts, I want to hear them.'

'I was just thinking about the state of your rooms,' Edmund said inevitably. 'Do you like looking out over the backend of Narnia? Towards the White Palace.' As it had come to be known as, the remnants of it anyway.

'Narnia has no backend,' Peter said. 'Anyway, the views from your rooms are boring. You have nothing of the sea from your view.'

'I have the hills. They are beautiful. You shouldn't be jealous that I was swifter in choosing the best room than you.' Edmund was teasing and avoiding him. 'When the right light shines on those hills ... it is better than your view of the sea and the forest.'

'We've grown up, haven't we?' Peter asked suddenly. 'Listen to us, we talk like we've been Narnian nobles all our lives. We don't sound like home as we used to.'

'I am glad for it.'

'Why?'

'At home I hated you. Here I love you.'

Peter smiled; Edmund had spoken his ritual after their lovemaking. For some odd reason, only known to Edmund, he needed to berate Peter about something (usually his quarters) before he could mention his love for him. Now, he hoped Edmund could speak of what had been on his mind.

As Peter had thought, Edmund gave a short sigh and resettled himself in his brother's arms, sure to make sure that Peter's arms were tightly around him, lying across his bare stomach and chest, hands resting on his hips. 'Do you think it is as Lucy says it will be?' he asked eventually, once he had seen to his added comfort.

'She hasn't spoken to me of late,' Peter admitted. 'What has she said to you?'

As Lucy grew older, as they all grew older, she had proven she was quite the thinker, quite the philosopher. She had no head for battle like her brothers and sister, and strategy went over her head but she pondered everything else – the sun, moon, stars, and the existence of Narnia. As much as loved Narnia, she locked herself away for hours, trying to reason the basis for their being here. All she could ever come up with was magic, and she seemed to want more answers. She had grown to want to understand the basis behind the magic in Narnia. For which there was none. Narnia was just simply magical.

'She wonders if the Narnians will follow Kings' such as us into battle again,' Edmund murmured. 'I told her not to be absurd.'

'I suppose it is a good question. They don't understand,' Peter said. 'It is fine for anybody to lie together if both give consent but when they are of the same blood, it isn't.'

'It's disrespect to the ancestors of the bloodline,' added Edmund. 'It matters little. They will follow us into battle. Once they see you at the frontlines, fighting for all your worth, they will remember that we are still Kings.'

'And when you bellow and bark orders at them from the back lines but are still the first to take a blow, they'll remember that you would take an arrow for any of them. You've done it before; thankfully Lucy found you before your heart gave out. You've done it numerous times, if I remember correctly.'

'We are good Kings',' Edmund said. 'Our personal lives should not be seen as more important than how we rule and deal with our people.'

'Well spoken,' grinned Peter, knowing perfectly well where Edmund had borrowed his words from.

'Quote by High King Peter, the Magnificent,' finished Edmund with a coy smile across his face, 'in a speech that did little to help the Narnians' new thoughts of us.'

'At least I tried.'

'Perhaps it is too soon and they will learn in their own time that we haven't changed in the slightest. Those at Cair Paravel will. It hasn't changed us, it won't change us. It doesn't matter what they think of us anyway, they adore Lucy and Susan. If they begin to hate, it will be directed at me. You're the High King; I betrayed you and the others to the White Witch.'

'They haven't forgotten, but it was such a long time ago,' murmured Peter faintly. 'But they will love us; I doubt very much they have stopped loving us.'

'It doesn't matter,' Edmund said again, his arms slithering around Peter's waist, with cold hands. 'I love you,' he said sincerely.

His eyes closed when Peter kissed his head. 'I love you,' he whispered in return. 'And everyone knows it too.'

'The walls at Cair Paravel have ears,' Edmund warned when Peter began to say more.

'Hush. Only Susan's ladies have the mouths to spread what the walls hear.' Peter captured Edmund's smiling mouth in an open kiss, easily. 'And they aren't here, Ed.'

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**_Please review!  
I'd like to know your thoughts. (This is story is x posted all over the place)._**


	2. Eve of Battle

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Eve of Battle

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'It will be our first battle as more than kin, as lovers. Does that change the perspective of the battle?'

* * *

There was rustling outside the door of Peter's tent. A dark shadow flittered against thin fabric. Just one, but nonetheless his hand flew to his sword. It just happened to lie next to his waist under all the warm furs. He couldn't help it. It was habit, especially on the eve of battle when his mind was racing with the glory and pain the next morning would bring.

He would march the main force of the Narnians across the fields and into battle, wearing armour that made him a human target. He would glance at Edmund, waiting, the picture of calm, to make the next strike that was always intended to blow the enemies force in half. They always found each other in battle. They homed into each other's side as easily as the wind blew.

'By Aslan, Peter! Must you make it so hard for me to enter your tent?'

It was Edmund's voice. Peter let go of his sword with a sigh of relief that was deafening to his ears. Even the slightest rustle set him on edge before a battle. It was stupid to think that it may have been one of his enemies outside his tent. Only Edmund, and occasional Susan, came to his tent before battle. But of late, Susan had stopped visiting him the eve altogether. Edmund has reasoned that it must be because she was nervous about finding the pair of them in bed. She had stopped coming by his quarters also, for the very same reason.

'Sorry,' Peter murmured, rising from his bed giving little thought to the fact he was wearing nothing.

He tumbled over the various rugs and furs that lined the floor of his royal tent before helping Edmund inside. Edmund looked him up and down with a satisfied expression on his face and licked his lips somewhat.

'I approve,' he murmured, casting his sword down the floor and stepping out of his boots. 'Do you think they've set our tents up so far apart on purpose?' he enquired. 'I swear I nearly had to walk through the Shuddering Wood to get to you.'

'Purpose, maybe,' Peter said. He took Edmund's hand and pulled him to the bed. 'I was surprised when they led us off in different directions towards our tents. We've always shared in the past. The girls are sharing.'

'It's not fit that we share anymore,' Edmund said, rolling his eyes. 'All that time wasted erecting my tent when I was bound to come to yours anyway. How pointless.'

Peter smiled at him, ruffling his hair like he was simply his brother and not a lover. After helping Edmund out of his shirt and trousers, he collapsed down onto the bed and pulled the soft furs up around him. Edmund was next to him in seconds, a hand resting on his stomach, gently caressing.

'I love how these feel around me,' Peter said, stroking the furs. .

'Even better against the naked form,' Edmund replied, his breath was tickling Peter's ear. 'These are of dumb animals?'

'Of course. Would I slay our own people for my comfort?'

'No, that would be worse than any crime,' Edmund said. He slid down the bed and allowed his head to rest against Peter's shoulder, comfortable. He even gifted the High King with a sigh of utmost content. 'The only thing they would have denied us by putting our tents so far apart would have been a good night's sleep,' Edmund said, his voice muffled as he was pressing his face against Peter's skin. He didn't intend anything more but to lie beside his lover. He just wanted Peter near him tonight.

'If you hadn't come,' Peter wondered out loud, 'would you be tossing and turning?'

'Yes. When I'm apart from you I always do. As of late when I sleep away from your bed without you or when you are not in mine, I can never sleep well.'

Peter's heart glowed. It was often difficult to get Edmund to talk romantically to him. No matter how much the younger King snuggled up to him and held him close, it was only on occasion he'd stress the point of his love and need for his brother. For Edmund, talking crudely and about very sexual things came simply, yet when he spoke of love, he truly meant it.

Peter placed a chaste kiss to the top of Edmund's head. 'You aren't worried about tomorrow?'

'Worried?' Edmund shifted against him. 'Not at the present time, no. But tomorrow, I fear things will be different. My nerves will kick in.'

'I think I will worry for your safety differently,' Peter told him.

'How so?'

'If times were the same and I regarded you as only my brother, I would fear greatly for you, as any brother would. As now you are obviously much more to me than a brother, I'm afraid I won't be able to stand seeing you in danger.'

Edmund's hand has found his under the covers and had intertwined their fingers. 'It will be our first battle as more than kin, as lovers. Does it change the perspective of the battle?'

'I don't know.'

'Don't change the plans for me,' Edmund warned. 'The Narnians know what is happening tomorrow, our strategy is rather complex. So don't change a thing for me. If I am in danger leave me and pray Lucy finds me in time if the worst happens.'

'Only if you do the same for me.'

'I won't,' Edmund said, looking smug.

'What? Why not?' Peter asked, snapping lightly. 'You can't make me promise not to see to your safety if you would risk everything to see to mine!'

'You're the High King,' Edmund justified. 'Narnia would not be Narnia without you. If you are injured Lucy needs to be able to find you right away. Narnia can deal without me, I have never been a particular favourite. But without you ...'

'Edmund,' Peter growled. 'No! Stick to what we discussed and do not stray far from the plans. You have seen how delicate they are. It all depends on it working perfectly, or it will not work at all.'

'That's only because you let Susan draw them up,' Edmund scoffed.

'If I go down you have to promise me not to ruin anything for me. I will be fine.' Peter frowned. 'How can you say such things? Narnia would be fine with just you as King and the girls too.' Even though they were grown women now, Peter and Edmund never seemed to have gravitated away from addressing them as girls. 'You know that. Don't speak folly.'

Edmund was silent for a while, so silent that Peter could hear the soft breathing emitting from his lips. He swore too, that he could almost hear his brother's heart beating in his chest. It was in time with his.

'I suppose,' he said finally, 'I only say such things because I am afraid of losing you tomorrow and at any other battle. I would give anything to have your safety during the battle.'

'Would you have me sit out?'

'If you would tolerate it, yes I would.'

'I would never tolerate that.'

'Yes, I know. You fight with such passion,' Edmund breathed to him, his lips moving against his hear. 'It is beautiful to watch you train.'

'But not when I fight?'

'Only because my heart is on knife's edge all the time.'

'What has gotten into this eve?' Peter asked fondly. 'You're being so ... sweet.'

Edmund fluttered his dark eyelashes, graciously accepting the compliment. 'I hope some of the Narnians can hear their Kings speaking this way to each other,' he murmured. 'Perhaps it would let them know that the bond during battle has become even stronger.'

Peter simply smiled. He wondered what his subjects would think if they could hear them talk right now. Would they be horrified? Or understand that the love blooming wasn't such a bad thing after all?

'When Susan's little, complex scheme is achieved; I want to fight beside you. We'll find each other somehow, we always do. And I want to kiss you the second the battle is ours.'

'In front of everyone?'

'I front of everyone.'

'If we don't win?'

'We will,' Edmund said. 'Of course we will. When have we ever not? And,' Edmund seemed to have not finished, 'when we return to Cair Paravel, I want you between my sheets.'

'Because you love me?' Peter wanted to hear it before he drifted to sleep.

'Because I love you, my King.'

Peter slept with a smile etched across his face. Edmund kissed his brow and followed into slumber shortly.

* * *

**_Please review!  
I'd like to know your thoughts. (This is story is x posted all over the place)._**

* * *


	3. On the Field

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On the Field

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" 'And you look beautiful,' Peter murmured. He pulled off his own helmet and placed it on the saddle of his horse behind him. "

* * *

Peter shifted on the back of his horse, swallowing the emotions rising in his throat. His helmet was handed to him, not by Edmund but by a faun who stroked the colourful plume coming from the back of it.

'It makes you a target, King,' he said. The clatter of his hooves on the rocks was enough for Peter to know he was nervous, more or less terrified.

'It makes me visible,' Peter corrected. 'I need to be seen by all of the Narnians,' he added.

'One day,' the faun said seriously, 'it will be the death of you, King.'

Peter didn't say anything else, and accepted his sword from the faun, turning his horse to glimpse the rest of his army behind him. He had the larger force, as was expected and had always been. This would be the force to begin the attack, after Susan's archers had pierced the sky with their arrows. It was possible Susan had killed more men than any of them, Peter or Edmund. Her arrows always found their target. Edmund fought with raw abandon, and once he was in the midst of the fight he could barely control himself and slashed and struck at everything that opposed him. Peter fought carefully, he wasn't natural like Edmund. He used techniques and moves he had been taught rather than sliding into a place in his mind that knew all this without being taught it, like Edmund did.

Sliding his helmet over his head, he looked to the west. The canopy of trees, a huge dawning forest that seemed to stretch on for miles, had moved their especially for Susan's plan. Thankfully the enemy were invaders so they knew little of the Narnian land and would not think twice about this new wood. Edmund's forces where hiding there, dotted between the trees. Lucy was on the other side of Peter, her little band of faun's and elves hiding in the actual wood. Susan was directly behind Peter, her archers and stone throwers sitting easily atop high rocks, patiently waiting with arrows already drawn against taut strings.

Susan would let her archers attack first, picking clean those off who were careless about what flew from the sky. Then on signal that all arrows had been fired, Susan would sound her horn and Peter would launch forward, the aim to create a clean cut down the centre of the enemy army. Edmund and Lucy would fly in from the left and right and Susan from the front and each would respectively deal with the side of the army allocated to them.

If one thing went wrong, if Edmund and Lucy didn't come in at the same time, if the enemy was wiser than they thought, the Narnians themselves could be surrounded and the tides could turn drastically. Peter knew this; he saw that Edmund knew it too. His eyes had been troubled and hooded earlier that morning and he'd barely said a word to Peter before he went off with his forces trailing behind him. Edmund had hugged himself to Peter before he left, their armour clanking together as they tightly embraced. Peter had kissed the top of his head and then watched Edmund swing easily, despite the heavy armour into his horse, and trot off.

No one was expecting much from this battle. It was too be like the others. Quick, brutal, and they hoped cunning. Things could go wrong though. Battles so much relied on sheer luck and skill rather than the logistics and cleverness of those drawing the plans up. The Narnians just liked to have something to go by. Recklessly attacking and running into a battle was not their style. Peter liked to look prepared and ready, it phased out the enemy more if the defender looked comfortable and smug. But he'd leave being smug to Edmund.

He could see them, just before him, across the expanse of field. They hadn't chosen this place, their enemy had set came just at the edge of the river. Edmund had brought his army here somewhat disgruntled at the space they had to launch their attack from. If it went wrong, not only would the Narnians be separated, they'd have a high to their backs.

A horn blew in the distance, thin and shrill unlike the deep, booming of the Narnian horns. Swiftly, the sounds of heavy stamping and clamping followed. How professional they looked, the enemy, marching forward in neat rows that Peter just earned to cleave into parts. Instead of watching them advancing as he should be, ready to give the order if they found themselves under a flight of arrows, he looked towards the forest where Edmund was waiting, with his force.

The glimmering rows in front of him, stopped and a collective sigh of stillness ran through his army. It was like a tremor he could feel and it ran right from the front where he sat on his horse to the backlines. Arrows glittered over his head as Susan had planned. They were not to give the enemy a second of rest. Her arrows launched onto them like the fury of Aslan.

Few dropped to the ground. Peter could see so many and shields were raised in defensive format, preventing many more casualties that Susan could have caused. Susan and her archer's unleashed three flights of arrows and only those lose with their shields fell to them. Instantly, Peter unsheathed his sword and thrust it into the air, not wanting to waste any time. He hoped Susan saw his sword glimmering as the sun struck it and kept her arrows from her bow as he charged.

'FOR NARNIA!' Peter yelled as he spurred his horse on angrily, at the front of his lines.

He heard his cry echoed behind by his army as they charged after him. To his surprise the enemy didn't just wait for the Narnians to reach but charged against them. There would be a clash the second their lines met.

'THROUGH THE MIDDLE!' Peter bellowed above the noise of his moving army. He felt it needed to remind them of Susan's battle plan during the charge because emotions could be stirred before clashing and things people thought they knew could easily be forgotten in the fray.

He swung the second he saw a shimmering man in armour rushing towards him. On top of his horse he had the advantage over the foot soldiers facing them but then there was the fear for his horse. She was a dumb animal, incapable of speech but well trained and reliable. She would keep her head and help him through this battle. Much of his success counted on the steadiness and calmness of his beast. His fear was that she would be cut down from under him. It happened to many of who were mounted in battle, his centaurs especially. It rendered them nearly incapable but at least if it happened to Peter's horse, he'd still have his own two feet.

With a quick swing and a resounding noise that even he heard above all the noise surrounding him as the two armies came together, the side of his sword connected with the man's helmet. He sagged to his knees and was driven through with a spear from behind Peter.

He surged forward, his army following him, continuously screaming at them to keep to the centre and cleave the enemy in half. Susan would blow her horn when she could see from her perch that the army was in two nicely and ready for the real action to begin. Surprisingly to Peter it seemed that no one touched him with a weapon or even tried. Maybe he got to them first and engaged only briefly before finishing them off or knocking them down and leaving them to whoever was behind him.

Eventually, Peter could see the lines thinning and he could see trees and land behind the enemy. He sped forward faster, slashing and swinging his sword like a mad man, but remembering what he'd been taught. Being left in this position for some time would be perilous and Edmund, Susan and Lucy knew that. No doubt they would all be on their toes waiting for the call to come. If Peter's army was stuck like this for too long without help from the sides they would be cut down themselves.

It seem an eternity to Peter before he heard the deep invite of Susan's horn. She drew out many long calls so as Edmund and Lucy would not confuse it for anything else.

Within minutes Peter found himself wedged between two halves of one army, each side panicking as they found themselves with no way to turn and run except back, and that would mean to flee the battle.

'What should we do with him?' Peter asked, his sword at the neck of this man whose resolve had crumpled when he'd seen numerous parts of his army dissolved and crushed on all sides. Those who escaped from his ranks where chased down by Peter's fastest centaurs and cats and were being gathered inside the woods so they could not escape yet again.

It was over, the battle had been won. So simply at that too. It had only taken half a day to destroy the enemies' ranks and Peter found himself relishing the idea of being back to Cair Paravel in time for dinner. He wondered when battles had turned into such a chore that just needed to be done before any free time could be enjoyed.

Both Edmund and Lucy had played their parts well but Edmund had only just managed to make it to Peter's side. They hadn't fought alongside each other as they usually did. But when Edmund came forward, flanked by some of his force, covered in blood, Peter's heart soared. His beloved was safe. The look Edmund had given him was full of relief also, but he didn't run to him. His eyes had lingered on Peter's for several seconds, a smile wide on his lips before his glance had found whom Peter was standing over. His expression had turned back to one of a cold, battle ready veteran though he was nowhere near the age to be called that.

'Kill him,' Edmund said easily.

'Don't!' Lucy cried. 'Don't kill him; spare him some compassion, Edmund!'

Beside Peter, Edmund had pulled his sword out to and was in the midst of pointing it to the shaking man's neck. The man had completely fallen, and Peter could see exactly why his army hadn't won. He was never fit to be a king, he'd failed absolutely and he was now on the brink of tears. Edmund's hand stilled, though a trickle of the brightest, ruby red blood Peter had ever seen had trickled down the man's neck as the tip of Edmund's sword pressed into his skin. Lucy caught her brother's arm, and pulled his sword away.

'Leave him,' she said determinedly. 'Take him to Cair Paravel as a prisoner!' She turned behind her and two fauns from her band stepped forward to heave the man to his feet. 'I'll deal with him.'

'Don't you dare set him free!' Edmund said fiercely, sheathing his sword in one slick motion.

Lucy stalked off, ignoring her brother and following the man who was being half dragged off by the fauns. Peter grimaced. Lucy had made Edmund look a fool in front of the Narnians and good impressions were really what was needed at this time. Lucy the Valiant perhaps was too much that at times.

'You were going to kill him?' Peter wondered openly to Edmund who was looking everywhere but his eyes.

'Weren't you?' Edmund replied.

'You're bleeding,' Peter said, touching his hand to the side of Edmund's face where a thin line of blood was falling, over his cheekbones and past his lips.

'I'm fine,' Edmund said tersely. He pushed Peter's hand away but the suddenly looked up into the High King's eyes like he'd remembered something. He touched a hand to Peter's chest. 'How do you fair?' he asked softly. 'You aren't hurt, are you? I'll call back for Lucy.'

'Leave her,' Peter sighed. 'She'll be treating others who need it more than I do.'

Edmund was scowling after Lucy as the Narnians parted, bowing to her and her great kindness for sparing the man's life. 'She'll keep him well,' he said angrily. 'She'll keep him in luxury for a prisoner. And then she'll begin to believe he's changed for the better and use her power to set him free. I would have killed him if it wouldn't have made a spectacle. If she hadn't refused it, no one would have thought twice about it.' Edmund loosened off his armour, but kept it on. 'Lucy's still as naive as she was when we first came here.'

'She doesn't think politics, Edmund, you know that. She thinks of the people.'

Edmund was still scowling as he pulled his helmet off, rubbing a hand over his face. His hair was sticking up all over the place, mused from the helmet. 'You look a right mess,' Edmund commented dryly, looking Peter over.

The Narnians around them were simply milling, those who had not been ordered to chase after the enemy making a get away after their leader had fallen. Many were seeing to minor wounds and others were hurrying after Lucy, desperately seeking attention for their friends and comrades. Peter had no such intention of making rounds as he would after a battle, his attention was entirely focused on Edmund. But Edmund seemed to have forgotten what he said the night before and had replaced that with being sour about Lucy spiting him.

'And you look beautiful,' Peter murmured. He pulled off his own helmet and placed it on the saddle of his horse behind him. Edmund was looking wearily up at him. 'I mean it, Ed,' he added softly, cupping Edmund's cheek in his hand. 'You look beautiful.' Peter smiled as he felt the skin under his hand warm, Edmund was blushing at his words, something the young King hadn't done in such a long time or unless they were in their quarters.

'I suppose,' Edmund said lightly, 'you look rather stunning yourself. Not really a mess.'

'Do you remember what you promised me?'

Edmund looked puzzled for a second and he looked about to open his mouth and tell Peter that he didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about. But he closed his mouth and smiled with a nod. 'Yes, I do,' he said. He roped his hands around the back of Peter's neck and pulled the taller man closer to him.

'I thought you had forgotten and I was going to have to do it myself,' Peter said, grinning also, though he felt his smile could never match the look of radiance that had come across Edmund's face.

'Forget?' Edmund asked. 'Never, I just needed to be reminded.' And with that he rose up, his eyes never leaving Peter's until he closed them at the inevitable moment their lips met in hot embrace.

Peter nearly melted into his younger brother's grasp. He thought he would simply turn to a puddle of goo before Edmund if he kept kissing him in that astonishing way. Everything about Edmund's kisses was amazing. The way he used his tongue to gently coax Peter's mouth and yield everything to him, was well – incredible. All their kisses could have turned sloppy and unpleasant but they stayed magic and left both kings wanting more than just those kisses. Edmund had remarked once that Peter was the best kisser he'd ever known, but Peter had rebuked that and said Edmund himself was no doubt much better than he was. At the end they reached a conclusion after many experiments that they both made it all that better for each other. Both still maintained that the other was the better kisser.

Somehow Peter found himself having to hold tightly into Edmund's back in order to keep him standing and keep him kissing. Edmund had other plans that didn't involve them continuously standing in the midst of a bloody battlefield.

When the kiss broke, Edmund pressed himself against Peter, their armour clanking loudly. 'By Aslan,' he moaned, 'if there was any way to pass on the duties that we must do after this battle to the girls, I would do anything for that just to have you in my bed. Why must we wait? Can't we leave now? The Narnians seem perfectly fine with Susan and Lucy.'

Peter knew that to be a falsehood. The Narnians, many of them, had stopped what they were doing to stare dumbly at their kings sharing a passionate embrace. And as the High King, Peter had his people to see to and others matters to attend to before this battle could really be called complete and won. Edmund had things to see to also but these could be done at a later time.

'As truly wonderful as that sounds, Ed, you know we have duties,' he murmured, still hugging Edmund close to him.

Edmund grumbled. 'Fine. But,' he said sternly. 'I want you in my quarters at Cair Paravel no later than seven this eve. If you are not there I shall come into the court starker's and have you there.'

Peter couldn't help but smile at the nature of which Edmund said this. And nothing would stop him from reaching his beloved's chambers at the requested time for he had a faint feeling that Edmund would do as he threatened.

* * *

**_Please review!  
I'd like to know your thoughts. (This is story is x posted all over the place)._**

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